Loss of Mirkwood
by Silven
Summary: This is about The Creation of the Orcs. Torture IS involved. It's my first fic so pleez R
1. Default Chapter

Prologue  
  
Footsteps clicked along the stone floor.  
  
The sphere glowed a bright red.  
  
There was much commotion, yet silence.  
  
A hand with sharp, white nails hung over the sphere.  
  
There was the pounding of a hammer and the spark of metal against metal.  
  
He grinned a toothy grin.  
  
His eyes bulged.  
  
His neck was twisted.  
  
His nose was crooked.  
  
His hair was filthy with grease.  
  
He stank of a putrid odor that seeped into his nostrils.  
  
The other, was much more human-looking.  
  
His face was pale.  
  
His hair was white.  
  
His eyes were a bright green.  
  
His mouth was a disgusting hole in his old face.  
  
"We are ready." came the hiss of the ugly one.  
  
"We shall begin." said the deeper voice of the old one.  
  
Sarumon waved away his captain. 


	2. Chapter 1 Spring and Arrows

Chapter 1  
  
Spring and Arrows  
  
The leaves seemed to bloom just that morning in Mirkwood. There was much to be said about them. They seemed to glow their powerful color, welcoming the first taste of spring.  
  
There was still snow about the ground, but very little. And it was growing warm, for the sun had risen that day in bright comeback against the winter winds.  
  
Grass began to sprout out of the beds of dead leaves, giving the ground a forest color. Broken twigs and branches lay about the ground, being picked up by the busy hands of elves.  
  
This day was one of the most important. The revival of the lands began this day, and the elves were busy cleaning the ground and homes of the dead plants. They piled them on top of their horses, then taking them to the edge of the trees of Mirkwood to bury them. They respected the trees and plants, and always buried the dead in the spring.  
  
In the palace in the center of the wood, many assistants to King Thranduil busied themselves, repairing the palace and taking out the dead items that had be thrown astray into the building with no roof. No roof was necessary, since the snow didn't make it through the canopy. Rain seemed to just avoid the area of the palace. Many believe that it was a spell put on it by Thranduil's mother.  
  
The scent of pine mixed with the juice of leaves filled the air. Elves still wore their winter clothes, which were but a tunic, pants of thick fabrics, and boots. They were able to move very swiftly in these clothes, as they could in any dressings. At times, they all just paused to take in the long-awaited beauty of the season.  
  
In the throne house, just through the Great Gardens ahead the palace, there was a large feast of a breakfast going on. The royal family ate the delicious food given by the cook. The table consisted of the Lord and the heirs to him. Thranduil sat at the end of the table, making his way into a soup.  
  
To the right of the table, facing Thranduil, sat the women of the throne. There were four, Voleen was the youngest, and sat closest to the king. She was twenty-eight years of age. She shared her father's blonde hair and green eyes. Her face was as fair as any, saving for the scar that was hiding behind her hair near her right ear, given to her by the knife of Gollum, who was present during her birth.  
  
Next was Fern, whom didn't share her father's features. She had black hair that was tied back into a long braid. Her eyes were a hazel color, differing from the color of her skin, which was the palest of all.  
  
Next to Fern, was Deelin, who was but a year older then Fern at the age of fifty-four. Her hair was blonde as her father's. Her eyes were a light brown, against her soft skin. She had the straightest face of them all, rarely smiling for she had grieved much in her life. The death of the Lady Withasha had destroyed her, for she much appreciated her mother.  
  
Gabrielle was stuck in the middle of happiness and sorrow. She had experienced the most in life, but hadn't experienced all happy things. She had witnessed the death of her brother at birth, who was born dilated and didn't survive. This had left two men in the family.  
  
Reed, the boy who sat opposite of Voleen on the men's side, was the second youngest. He was a boy that believed in peace through battle, not negotiating. He was well with a sword, but his eyes gave him false aim, for he was born blind in the left eye. He rarely turned left, and just turned all the way right to see who or what was behind him.  
  
Beside him, the second oldest of the children, was Legolas. He shared his father's blonde hair and his fair face. However, he was the only one with the gift of blue irises in his family. He ate silently, leaning against his chair. He felt happy inside, yet he didn't show it. He would miss the play in the snow which was relief to the intense warmth in the summer. He would chase his younger sisters around the palace in friendly ways. Reed rarely joined in, for he was educating himself with swordplay.  
  
Even though he would miss the times of the white beauty, he would welcome spring with open arms. He was anxious to be on the hunt for meat again. The elves rarely did this, for they needed meat very little. They shot very large game, which gave them enough meat for a long time.  
  
"Are you going to be among in the village today?" asked Thranduil after their meal was finished. Legolas and Reed looked at their kind.  
  
"I will be helping children make their bows." said Reed. "I must leave in little time." Thranduil smiled at his son. A member of the royal family always left to help young ones make their first bows. It was a tradition. Even though Reed was well with carving, Legolas was the better in making a bow of good use.  
  
"What does Legolas plan to do today?" asked Thranduil, turning to his other son. Legolas watched him for a moment.  
  
"I planned to leave to the south wood for the next five days to see that the winter was easy on them. If something happens, I will notify the throne."  
  
"Do you wish to leave on horseback?" asked Fern.  
  
"Yes, if the stable horses are tamed still." the horses in the elf stables seem to tense over the cold weather, and are difficult to ride again in the spring. Reed stood.  
  
"I will see you all again this afternoon." he said, bowing to his sisters and king. The cook came into the dining room and began to clear the dishes from the table. Legolas and Fern stood. Gabrielle followed their motion.  
  
"I will tell you before I leave if I will be using a steed." said Legolas, bowing then leaving the room.  
  
He left the Throne House into the Gardens. They were left by the snow and were growing again. They always revived themselves after a winter. Legolas watched as one sprouted and bloomed into a bright yellow flower. The sun heated it, and more grew around it. The motions were fast, and the garden was bright with flowers again before he turned off the path towards the stables.  
  
There were many elves in the stables, leading the horses and feeding them. A young stable boy stood up when Legolas approached and asked: "What do you wish for today, Prince Legolas?" he asked. Legolas looked behind the boy, to the row of stables. Horses were sniffing at the air, curious at the fresh scent that was about them.  
  
"Bring me a tame and swift steed." he asked. "Have him ready in thirty minutes' time. I will return then. Is one available?" the stable boy smiled and nodded.  
  
"Yessir, such a horse is available." he motioned across the stable hall. There was a stall with a large white horse inside. "Does she fit?"  
  
"Yes, thank you." said Legolas. He turned and began to walk out of the stable. He called back, "Have her saddled with two bags." he said. He left a prepared for his leaving.  
  
***  
  
The horse was very swift, able to gallop through the trees with ease. The path they were following was for horses only, and Legolas was the only one whom was on it. He could hear the hooves of the steed thump the ground in a speedy rhythm. He felt his air leave his shoulders in the brisk wind.  
  
He paused near a river for rest. It was an all day ride to the southern wood. He would rest near the village of Girgarox to eat and rest, then head on again.  
  
He led the horse to the edge of the cool waters and leaned against a tree. There was no snow here. The grass was brown mixed with green. Legolas looked up the tree with the new leaves. He pulled himself up onto a branch and began a climb upwards.  
  
The tree wasn't extremely sturdy and a branch had begun to give way beneath him. He reached above him and clung onto another branch and swung onto another, stronger one. He was near the top now, and could see more of the forest. He could see three clearings where there were villages. Most trees were green now with leaves. There was a series of them with bright blossoms. Legolas took a deep breath of the brisk fresh wind.  
  
There was a whistle behind him. He turned to see a dot aimed at him approach through the thick trees. He ducked just as the arrow came by him. He looked around, hearing his steed whinny in surprise. Another arrow was fired. Legolas quickly began to climb down again. He landed on a branch that was maybe ten feet from the ground and leapt from it. He landed near his horse and quickly mounted. Another arrow whistled by his ear.  
  
Legolas turned the horse back to the path and kicked its flanks. He looked back to see a black horse with a rider on it. Its skin was blistered and green, its teeth were black. The horse pranced and turned into the forest. Legolas watched it disappear, still fleeing. He felt a dark presence in his heart as he continued on his way. 


End file.
